


Shopping

by Airmid



Series: Misbehaving [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Castiel is So Done (Supernatural), Crack Relationships, Dean Winchester is So Done, Fluff and Crack, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-13
Updated: 2020-01-13
Packaged: 2021-02-27 09:08:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,023
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22234588
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Airmid/pseuds/Airmid
Summary: Sam hopes that Lucifer won't destroy anything on his shopping trip with Dean. Not that his life isn't weird enough and Michael refuses to share.As long as the angel doesn't level a building, he figures it might all turn out okay.
Relationships: Lucifer/Michael (Supernatural), Michael/Sam Winchester
Series: Misbehaving [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1600522
Comments: 1
Kudos: 40





	Shopping

* * *

Michael was leaning against the headboard of his bed, legs stretched out, eating methodically from a bag of M&M’s. Not even a share size but the big ones that people get to dump in a nice bowl and try not to take a fistful each time they walked by.

Not that Sam got a fistful of them. He had asked for some and just got a slow blink, some kind of incomprehension, like Michael didn’t understand requests all that well yet. Maybe he’d been too polite about the whole thing. Lucifer would have just taken without getting a sword through his hand. Sam was uncertain if he’d be that lucky. So he just watched and listened to all those little candies shuffling around each time Michael put his fingers in to dig one out.

Of course, Michael would be a sugar addict. Gabriel –

Sam turned his mind off, realizing he had just made himself sad.

“He’s alive.”

“What? How – how –“

“How do I know?” Michael cut in tearing his eyes from watching a show that was in some language that Sam wasn’t sure he could even remotely place. “I asked him.”

“And?”

“He said ‘Go away.’”

Michael, of course, seemed contented with this and Sam sat on the bed trying not to get sick from the obnoxiously pink and red swirls of color that seemed to fill this room. It at least acted as a good soberity reminder, he didn’t want any of this moving in the slightest or he wouldn’t be able to leave the bathroom for a week.

“Dead angels do not talk back. It’s what my years of being eternal have taught me.”

There was a slight nod as if Michael was confirming this with himself, and Sam just sighed.

So, he made himself comfortable next to Michael on the way too loud spread and mattress of questionable comfort, to wait for his brother and Satan to get back from the shopping trip that Lucifer had wanted to go on. Dean had insisted that Luci not be anywhere by himself where he might get tempted to ‘blow shit up’ as his brother had put it. Of course, the devil had pointed out that he should be allowed to go get something if he wanted to. That he was Satan after all, champion of free will; Dean had a stormy look that told them all he wasn’t buying that at any price.

Lucifer had tried to bring up that it was Michael that had caused a swath of destruction the last time, but the cold, hard look from his brother shut him up rather quickly. Sam was pretty sure Dean was delighted by that, as Luci had been a big factor in that little mess.

When Dean had demanded if it was close by there had been a long silence before Lucifer let out a reluctant yes.

Close by to the devil probably meant somewhere on present-day earth.

It had been a surprise when the car had started up when the two of them headed out and Sam wasn’t sure whether or not he should be praying to Satan to not do terrible things to his brother because Dean was going to insist he ride in the trunk again. At least after Michael undid whatever Lucifer cooked up and their whole trust conversation would start all over, Sam hadn’t wanted to sit through it the first time, let alone for the fortieth round.

Michael was leaning against him, still putting one piece of candy in his mouth at a time. He only had himself to blame for this. Michael had kissed him after he had eaten some a week ago while they had been speeding off to a case because only Dean would insist on fighting evil while they were towing around two MIA archangels in the backseat.

He wondered if Michael did that to grow his food preferences so he wouldn’t have to try all the food in the world himself. Like, if Sam tasted good with it then it was at least passable, if not good to try later on and Sam found it sweet if that was true. He smiled, letting his eyes slip closed right before he heard the sound of wings.

Except, this wasn’t the angel that he was expecting.

“Cas?”

“Sam. Where is your brother? I am in need of help.”

He was as stiff as ever, still looking like he had dressed in a wind storm, staring directly at him and it took far too long for the realization to slap him upside the head that Michael wasn’t visible to him. The archangel was still rattling his bag, completely unfazed.

“How do you think I survived overseeing them for so long?”

Sam crossed his arms, trying to look at least a little judgmental, which his brother would have helpfully informed him was something he did all the time by accident if he was here. Because Dean was an ass like that.

Nothing.

Michael was still watching his incomprehensible show and Cas seemed to be hovering around the idea that something was very wrong.

“Sam?”

“Not my problem,” Michael said. Apparently, Lucifer’s lectures had been wearing off at precisely the wrong time.

“You could at least tell him yourself.”

“No.”

And that was apparently that.

Not so much with Cas, who was drifting ever so slightly closer by the second. Sam wondered how the angel had found them at all as they were still marked, well Dean was anyways. Sam had been the most recent one in hell and Lucifer disliked those pesky little things that kept him from keeping tabs on _his human_ at all times. Though Sam was certain Satan was getting a soft spot for Dean and he didn’t know how that would end outside of a lot of gunfire.

“He probably simply picked the worse motel imaginable.”

“Well, you can fix that you know.”

Those were bad words to say as Michael looked at him, a slow lazy look that was filled with too much mischief. The bed became far more comfortable in a heartbeat, the whole room washing those horrendous pinks and reds away and replaced with hardwoods and low lighting with a much bigger TV displaying the show that Sam was still very uncertain about.

He blinked a few times, realizing that Cas had backed up against a far wall now dressed as a bell boy in one of those high-end hotels. Well, at least like the ones in black and white movies as he was pretty sure Michael had never seen such a thing in real life.

“We had to go to five –“ Dean’s voice trailed off as he stood in the doorway, Lucifer by him with what looked like a plastic shopping bag swinging from his fingers. “What did you do to Cas?”

“Nothing.”

“I mean it – if you did one thing –“

“I am just trying to watch my show with Sam!”

The whole room shook, lights flickering, floor trembling, well at least the bed did, as Michael’s eyes flashed brilliantly for a moment. Nothing was vaporized so Sam put another check in that column of the list he had been mentally keeping ever since Michael had inadvertently leveled a diner.

Fortunately, there was still only one mark in the ‘accidentally blew up a building’ column so far.

“Sure,” Dean said, running a hand down his face. “Hey Sam, you sure you couldn’t have just left them at the mouth of hell?”

He shot his brother a look that he hoped conveyed that even if he wanted to, he didn’t think that was a thing he could do at all, ever, with these two. It seemed to sort of work as his brother was going over to Cas to try to convince him to unstick himself from the wall.

“Dean, that is Lucifer.”

“Didn’t realize. Isn’t like I haven’t been to multiple countries with him this morning, even if he did take baby with us. And Sam, FYI if you take him shopping; he puts, like, everything in his mouth.”

Sam snorted.

Lucifer was shuffling over, looking apprehensive, and Sam worried that maybe Dean had unwittingly gotten something terrible for the devil when the bag was placed on the bed beside Michael. Looking inside, the archangel made a soft noise, something small and contented.

“Well, glad buttercup there likes it.”

“They are not fighting.”

“No, Cas, man, they aren’t.”

“You did not inform me of this.”

The stare Dean got was icy and Sam was about to protest that it wasn’t his brother’s fault at all, that the two had forbidden them to inform anyone. Sam wasn’t sure how that all worked but he wasn’t going to ask questions. Michael had attempted to explain to him once how they could talk to each other without words and his brain still hurt – as in actually developed a physical ache that he wasn’t sure was good for his psyche.

“Have a seat, Castiel,” Lucifer said, watching him. “Even if I wanted to hurt you and incur Dean’s wrathful prayers, you’re under Michael’s protection.”

“Really?” his brother asked, looking downright shocked like he couldn’t decide if the floor was going to open up and eat him because reality had ceased to be understandable, that he had finally found his breaking point.

“You are fond of him for unknown reasons,” Michael answered, rustling around in the bag Lucifer brought, giving an absentminded hand wave.

Thankfully, it just gave Cas back his original clothes and didn’t explode anything.

The bed dipped, Lucifer getting on it next to Michael because of course he fit, there was never going to be a place that Lucifer couldn’t fit himself into. Dean was instructing Cas about the importance of taking one's shoes off before sitting on a bed and Sam was grateful that Cas was not pointing out that all the occupants of his hadn’t done that nifty little requirement.

All their shoes were then on the floor on Sam’s side, Lucifer smiling at him over the top of Michael’s bent head with something that threatened some form of shenanigans later.

“What the hell are we watching and what are we watching it in?”

“It is apparently about a detective,” Lucifer answered, “in Hindi.”

“Uh-huh.”

Satan, at least, came with subtitles and Sam hoped it wasn’t one of the procedural cop dramas that his brother threw a fit about every time he even channel surfed by them on TV. He’d probably have even more rants about a foreign one.

“Are you sure you can stay, Cas?” Dean was asking, worrying over him a little and Sam shook his head.

“I have ordered them all to fall back. If it is true that I am under Michael’s protection, I will tell Raphael to go open the Cage when I return.”

Dean snickered a little.

Michael had dragged out one of the smaller bags, pulling it open with a delicate touch and Sam could already smell the scent of chocolate laced with a fruit he couldn’t name. He was glad Gabriel wasn’t here. Dean would probably draw the line at that and start trying out new and improved banishing sigils.

The bag was held over to him and he realized that Michael was looking at him, waiting. He took one of the little candies and it was good, really good, and he could get behind Satan’s strategy even if he couldn’t mojo all the bags closed and full again. At least, that’s what he hoped happened there as Lucifer let out a low sound from somewhere to his right as if he couldn’t believe Sam would doubt his people skills.

Then he was being kissed, long and slow like they had a lifetime for this before he was released to breathe. Michael was smiling, something soft and gentle and so very rare for him. Sam brushed his lips against the angel’s forehead before leaning back to watch whatever the hell they were watching.

He was pretty sure God was laughing at them all right now, and he was totally okay with that as Michael pulled him closer.


End file.
